Side Stories
by A2MOM
Summary: Four ficlets based on some of the fanfics I have written; mostly fluff with some references to sex. Cain/Abel, Encke/Keeler, Cook, Bering, Athos.


Side Stories

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These are four little ficlets from a couple of the stories I've will probably make more sense if you read the stories they came from, but they can be read alone, too. Starfighter is NOT mine, it was created by and belongs to the talented HamletMachine. Go read it on the web, it's a terrific story!

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Pib-Juh (The Next Twenty-Four, reference to A Mutual Accord)

Abel hurried into their quarters while Cain was still having his first morning smoke. He was carrying a small packing box and grinning from ear to ear, a faint blush of excitement staining his pretty face. Cain raised an eyebrow in question as Abel plopped cross legged on the mattress next to him.

"Oh good," Abel said, eyes sparkling. "I was hoping I'd catch you before you had to report in for duty. "He set the box in between them and began to unwrap it, grinning the whole time.

"Whatcha got there, Princess?" Cain asked, cocking his head and taking another drag off his smoke, making sure to exhale towards the ceiling vent. "Mommy send you some home baked cookies? Or'd you finally get that tentacle dildo you and Deimos were drooling over from that online sex-toy store?"

Ha Ha," Abel deadpanned, refusing to take the bait. "For your information, I got this for you." He pulled a jar of something light brown in color out of the box and presented it to Cain with an expectant smile.

Cain looked at it suspiciously, keeping his hand at his side. "You got me a jar of poop?"

"It's peanut butter!" Abel exclaimed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. At Cain's incomprehensible look, he quickly twisted off the jar's red lid with a vacuum sealed 'pop'. The scent of something salty and rich filled the air. Intrigued, Cain snuffed out his cigarette in his empty coffee cup, taking the jar and sniffing it.

"Remember, when you asked me what 'pib-juh' was?" Abel chattered on, digging several other items out of the box; a jar of raspberry preserves, some girly-ass water crackers, and a chocolate bar and small plastic spoon. "Well, since you've never had peanut butter, I wanted you to try some."

He dug the spoon into the thick brown goo and held it out to Cain, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Princess," Cain gave him a look," just because I'm a colony brat doesn't mean I never had some fancy ass crap like this peanut-whateverthefuck- you call it stuff. We actually did walk upright and had opposable thumbs."

"Peanut butter is hardly fancy," Abel said pointedly. "Can't you just try something I suggest for a change without an argument?"

Cain looked warily from the spoon to Abel's face, feeling his resistance cave as Abel's happy expression faltered. This probably wasn't a good time to point out Cain had readily agreed to that little bondage idea of Abel's, so he shrugged, took the spoon, and stuffed it in his mouth.

Damn. This stuff was-"Kinda gooey," Cain said thickly, swallowing with effort. His eyes grew wide, what the hell? This poop stuff was fucking _good_!

Abel was laughing, and if Cain wasn't so busy shoveling up another scoop he'd have pulled Abel's pants down and spanked his little bare ass.

"You're not supposed to eat it like it's ice cream," Abel giggled, trying to tug the spoon out of Cain's grasp.

"Whad's ice-keem ?"

"Hey!Not so much; you'll make yourself sick, dummy!" Cain scowled but relinquished the spoon, watching raptly as Abel unwrapped the candy bar and dipped that into the jar as well.

"Try it with chocolate," Abel said, and Cain snatched that eagerly, eyes closing in bliss as he took a bite.

"Man, dis stub ib gud!" He grinned, watching Abel's face turn pink with pleasure.

"You're welcome," Abel smiled, shaking his head ruefully. He broke off a chunk of the rich milk chocolate for himself and dug it into the peanut butter, eating it with a happy little hum. Cain watched him, chuckling softly.

"Pretty weird combo," he remarked.

Abel shrugged. "Well, sometimes things you'd never think would go good together actually do." He blushed and looked up at Cain through his thick brown eyelashes, and Cain laughed.

"What, you mean like us?" Cain drawled, and Abel's face turned red. He started to say something but stopped when Cain took his hand, dipping a finger into the jar and coating it with peanut butter before bringing it to his lips. Cain licked the creamy treat off Abel's finger, black eyes locked on brown intently.

"No," Abel answered softly. "I never thought we didn't go together."

"Double negative, Princess; thought they taught you not to use those in prep school?"

"You," Abel huffed, pulling his hand free, "are impossible. I don't know why I ever try doing something nice for you, anyway."

"The dildo would be nice. When's that coming?"

"Three to six weeks."

"Oh, let me know when that gets here. And Princess?" Cain leaned over to give Abel a sticky kiss on the cheek, nuzzling and whispering at his ear. "Thanks for the pib-juh."

* * *

What If? (The Next Twenty-Four)

Keeler made his way down the long, empty corridor from central command back to the mess, equal parts frustrated and exhausted. Nothing about this mission was going right so far, and they hadn't even left the ship. The Chief Science officer had no news of real consequence; the ion storm was moving off at a snail's pace and it could be hours yet before it was safe for the squadron to depart.

Keeler had already been awake almost sixteen hours. He was short tempered and exhausted and the fight he and Encke had had—in front of their team, no less—just added to his foul mood. So when he turned the corner and saw Encke leaning against the wall outside the dining room, obviously waiting for his return, he was less than pleased.

Encke stood away from the wall as Keeler neared, giving a little apologetic smile. The smile faded when Keeler frowned, and kept walking past him.

"Hey; hey Keeler," Encke called to him, blocking his way "Wait up."

Just keep going, Keeler thought, averting his eyes from his lover's face. If he turned around and Encke used those damn bedroom eyes on him, he'd be a goner.

"Baby-?" Encke reached out and caught him by the arm, stopping Keeler in his tracks. He wasn't forceful; Encke was always gentle with him, as if painfully aware of the differences in their size and strength. As if afraid of breaking him by mistake.

Keeler let his progress be halted and he sighed in defeat, flicking his blue eyes to Encke's pale, amber brown gaze. Encke looked exactly as Keeler knew he would, forehead creased in that worried frown that spoke volumes about things Encke would never be able to put to words. It was a face Keeler couldn't stay angry with, no matter how hard he tried.

"You still mad at me? " Encke asked softly. His other hand reached for Keeler too, curled around his bicep to pull him into the circle of his muscular arms. "Baby, I'm sorry-"

Keeler looked at his lover unhappily. "I know you are, Encke. I am too. It's just…." He shook his head, frustrated.

"This ain't your first mission," Encke said, reading his mind. He let his large hands roam up and down Keeler's back, gliding smoothly over the fabric of his flight suit. Keeler wanted to melt into his embrace, and let those hands stroke away the tension and uncertainty that made him feel like a rookie cadet all over again.

But there wasn't time for that now. "I know it isn't," Keeler said softly, resting his hands flat against Encke's broad chest. "But this is the first one I've lead, where so much is at stake. We have to find that Colteron fuel base, and we have to destroy it."

"We will, baby. I have faith in you."

"But what if we don't find it, Encke? What if I screw up, and get us all killed? What if this damn ion storm takes twenty hours to pass instead of two?" Keeler cocked his head in the direction of the mess hall behind them. "What if we lose our momentum, our window of opportunity, because I made us wait?"

Encke shrugged."That's a lot of 'what ifs' to carry around all by your lonesome. Last time I checked, we were in this together. 'What if' you let me help you, hm?"

Keeler looked at him, at this beautiful, sometimes infuriating man who never failed to take his breath away. The definition of strength, that was Encke; standing there with his arms around him, lending comfort and support. He looped his arms around Encke's neck, smiling tiredly at him.

"I have a better idea," Keeler murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to Encke's lush, full mouth. "What if we go sneak out the side hatch and hop the first transport ship out of here?"

"Maybe to some quiet little planet with a beach," Encke chuckled, raising his eyebrows, "where I can watch you walkin' around in nothin' but a tan all day?"

Keeler grinned. "I don't tan, sweetheart, I just get more freckles."

"Oh, freckle's is fine, too." Encke's eyes roamed his face, and he leaned down to kiss him, pulling Keeler flush against his body.

"Encke," Keeler protested feebly. "What if someone sees us?"

Encke smiled against his mouth, too warm and sweet to resist, damn him. "What if I don't care?"

* * *

All the Signs (Task Name Encke)

**Cook**

Commander Cook walked stiffly into his office, resisting the urge to drive his fist through the wall. All the signs were there, had been there for some time, staring him right in the face. And now today, it had all come to a head; Lieutenant Keeler, as strung out as a low-life colonial junkie, looking on the verge of collapse. Goddammit all to hell, he seethed. Why on earth hadn't he seen the signs until now?

But you know exactly why, that little voice inside his head said. Keeler was his protégé, a carbon copy of what he'd been like himself early in his military career: driven, competitive, a born leader. Cook had hand-picked Keeler over a dozen other equally qualified candidates for Lead Navigator of the _Sleipnir,_ called in favors and pulled a myriad of strings to get the young officer on his command team. Keeler was to be his special project.

Keeler was to be his.

He was half way to succeeding, too; overjoyed at Bering's choice for Lead Fighter, that hulking brute, Encke. Keeler would never think twice about any sort of relationship with someone so base and repugnant. Next to Cook, Encke would seem little more than an animal in Keeler's eyes.

Oh, how wrong he had been.

He'd seen the looks they gave each other today, just before Cook had relieved Keeler of duty. If they weren't involved sexually already, they would be; it was only a matter of time. All the signs were there.

If only, Cook despaired, they had been there for him, instead.

**Bering**

Bering shook his head, watching as his Lead Fighter practically ran from his office like his ass was on fire. This was the third time he'd caught the big dope sneaking back from his quarters, practically wringing his hands in worry over his navigator. The kid was no use to him like that, so he'd shoed him off , with a thinly veiled hint to just fuck the hot little blond, for Christs' sake.

Cook had given Bering some half-assed report about Lieutenant Keeler being "under the weather," and Encke seemed to have appointed himself Keeler's babysitter for the day. Well, Bering mused, taking another drag off his cigarette, the old saying seemed painfully true: The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Encke had all the signs; short attention span, short temper, far away, longing looks. All he needed was a deep sigh and a fainting couch to fall on, poor kid.

Love had no place in the military. Forming friendships was a set up for heartbreak, but falling in love was just plain stupid. Fuck around, sure; these were men, after all, and carnal needs still had to be met. But to have feelings for a fellow soldier was asking for some serious mental hardships if—when-that person was killed. The Greeks had encouraged it, saying it made warriors fight harder if they were protecting a lover instead of a comrade.

Bullshit, Bering thought darkly. He stubbed out his cigarette and wondered if he'd actually just made the biggest mistake in Encke's miserable life for the poor lovesick sap. Keeler though…that one was worth the risk, probably. Maybe, if they both survived, they'd name one of their kids after him someday.

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Trade you (From Tease)

"God, that was _hot_!" Athos moaned, practically swooning as soon as the navigators departed the gym. "I could've watched Keeler dry hump Cain all day! Especially with Encke watching, looking like he wanted to join in, hee hee! Your fighter's a real babe, Abel. Too bad he scares the shit out of me."

Abel raised an eyebrow at his friend as they made their way back to the navigators' lab. "Well, he scares me too sometimes, I guess. But he's not too bad, once you get to know him." Abel wondered fleetingly when that day would come for him. He still felt like he barely knew Cain sometimes.

"I bet he's great in the sack, though." Athos giggled at Abel's blush. "Want to trade sometime? If I can have Cain for the night, I'll loan you Praxis."

"Athos," Abel retorted, "There are so many things wrong with that statement, I don't even know where to start." They boarded the lift and Abel crossed his arms over his chest, leaning his aching shoulder against the wall. "How do you even know Praxis would want to-?"

He stopped with a groan, covering his face with his hands. "Oh God I can't believe I was just about to ask you that. I must have hit my head harder than I thought on that last throw."

Athos stepped closer and rubbed his back in commiseration. "Poor baby," he said, clucking his tongue. "Don't you worry about Praxis, he's got it bad for you. Calls me 'Abel' when we're doing it at least a couple of times a week."

Abel stared at him. He was a little horrified that he found that strangely endearing. "Um, sorry?"

"Oh don't fret. It's not like we're exclusive or anything." He looked at Abel with his big green eyes, pleading. "So what do you say to a swap, sweetie? I'd just _love_ to get the high hard one from your fighter sometime."

"Athos," Abel glared at him, as the lift slowed to a stop."No. And get your hand off my butt, if you don't mind; I said I hit my head, not my ass."

Athos pouted. "Oh well, it was worth a shot." He sighed dramatically, linking his arm with Abel's as they departed the lift. "Maybe I'll ask Lieutenant Keeler if he wants to trade instead….."

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Thought a little fluff would be a nice change of pace! If anyone has an idea for any other side stories from anything I've written, let me know!


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